


Show Me

by quartetship



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gift Fic, Illustrated, Inspired by Art, Inspired by Fanart, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 04:56:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7494723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartetship/pseuds/quartetship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Think about what's bothering you. Think about home. <i>Show me."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Show Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [southspinner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/southspinner/gifts).



> Happy (very belated, orz) birthday, Morgan! I'm so sorry - this fic took me way too long to write, given its length, but I hope you'll enjoy it all the same, ages late and all. 
> 
> (This one also features a lovely illustration by [Glory Cat](twitter.com/glorycat)!)

\--

“What was all that about, Lance?” 

Keith followed Lance in from their hangers, down the hall that led to one of the castle’s large, open sitting areas. The other paladins had gone to their rooms, to eat or to relax somewhere more interesting; Keith hadn't actually  _ asked _ any of them what their plans were for the evening. He had been too focused on trailing after Lance, to find out why he was so out of sorts. 

“We looked pretty bad out there, today. You’re not usually so scattered. Everything alright?” He wasn't exaggerating. Though they'd won the day, several of the lions were damaged, and Voltron had all but fallen apart in battle because of it. The bulk of the problem was that Lance’s attempts at heroics were more misguided than usual, more reckless and dangerous. 

_ Careless _ , Keith thought. 

He continued with his questions until Lance took a seat, throwing himself clumsily over the back of a low set couch, his legs still hanging halfway over the headrest. 

His eyes were immediately glued to the nearest large window, and what lay beyond it. 

“I'm just tired.”

Keith looked at him for a long moment, unsure whether or not he might be joking. “You sleep more than anyone else on the team, how are you tired?”

“That's not what I mean, jack hole. I'm tired of this.” Lance gestured dramatically toward the tall window in front of him, propping himself up on his elbows and shooting Keith a bitter glare before returning his eyes to it. “Don't even act like that's just a me thing.”

“Well no, I mean. I understand.” Keith followed Lance’s gaze out the massive castle window, into the darkness of space around them. “It's hard out here sometimes.”

“Sometimes?! I've almost died like  _ twice this week, _ had half a dozen weird rashes and more concussions than I think human brains should even be able to handle. Then I’ve got you and the rest of the team constantly on my case because I don't have any of your fucking skills.” Lance’s shoulders fell as he visibly deflated, as if he might simply dissolve where he lay. “Plus I haven't tasted actual food in what feels like a century.”

Keith hummed. “Yeah, I get that.”

_ “Do you?” _ Lance snapped, the air suddenly tense between them. “Because you don't seem bothered by it, mister  _ Go Wherever Shiro Goes.” _

“I'm just trying to focus on doing what's right, Lance. We all are. We all have something worth fighting for, and just because mine is different than yours doesn't mean either of our reasons for doing this aren't important.”

“Yeah, well maybe I don't  _ want _ to do this, anymore.” Lance let his head fall backward, draping all of himself over the couch, fingers raking through his hair and digging into his scalp. Keith shook his head, watching him. 

“You don't mean that. You  _ know _ you don't.”

“Don't tell me what I know,” said Lance, flatly. He lifted his head, then the rest of him, and turned halfway around to see Keith more clearly. “Look, I'm not trying to fight with you right now, but… I just wanna see earth, again. I just wanna visit my family.” He looked back at the window, at the sprays of stars and web of galaxies and light years of nothingness beyond it. Lance sighed. “I just miss home.”

Keith nodded, stepping toward him. "We all do. But you know, at least we have each other." He reached out, intent on offering a hand on Lance’s shoulder, to hold or lean into or whatever Lance might be in the mood to do. Instead, Lance all but  _ growled _ at him, smacking his hand away before Keith could process what was happening. 

"You say that like it's any compensation at all." Lance hissed. "I never asked for  _ you. _ I never asked for  _ any _ of this.”

“Why are you being such an asshole about it?!” Keith shouted, his voice echoing off the walls of the otherwise empty room a reminder that they could likely be heard outside of them. He lowered his head, and his voice with it, glaring at Lance. “I was just checking on you, and you're being a dick.”

“Because I'm not allowed to have feelings, with you. I'm not allowed to show you how I feel, because you freak out and act like I'm doing some horrible shit when I'm just  _ being human.” _ Lance dragged a hand down the length of his face, shaking his head hard. “Obviously you don't understand, so just leave me alone about it, okay? I don't wanna  _ be _ here. I don't  _ belong _ here."   
  


"At least you  _ know _ that!" Keith said, his tone dripping with venom he hadn't meant to let fly. "You should count yourself lucky. I've never belonged  _ anywhere.” _

“Boo hoo, dude. One more reason you don't understand the shit I'm dealin’ with, and also,  _ not _ my fuckin’ problem!” Lance  _ laughed, _ harsh and loud as he spat his words, bitterness obvious in them. He leapt from his seat and let his eyes linger on Keith’s for a moment before storming off, obscenities falling from his lips in quiet grumbles. 

Keith watched him go, still shell shocked and battling a bout of bitterness, himself. What was Lance’s problem? And how exactly was it Keith’s fault? He looked back at the window that Lance had been gazing through when he'd found him, focusing on his own reflection, rather than the skies beyond. 

He wasn't good at staying angry with Lance as long as he deserved, but Lance seemed more than capable of staying angry with  _ him.  _ It was the kind of thing that always ended in one of them botching something horribly on a mission, or in the beginnings of a fist fight, before Allura or Shiro would inevitably call them down. 

Keith frowned. He couldn't let it get to that point, this time. Getting along with Lance was best for the good of the team, but it was also best for his own very personal reasons. He hadn't found a way to put those into words yet, but he figured the current situation was probably not an asset to his cause. 

Without any idea as to how to make things better - especially given that he wasn't sure what he'd done  _ wrong _ \- Keith left to find help. 

He left to find Shiro. 

\--

“Lance is homesick.” 

It was something Keith was already more than aware of, but somehow, coming from Shiro, it didn't seem redundant. “It's understandable, with everything we’re dealing with out here. Before this, he'd never even seen anything outside the earth’s atmosphere.” Shiro glanced out the small window of his bedroom, smiling, all at once fond and forlorn. “It's a pretty drastic change of scenery, when you're not expecting it.”

Keith sighed, growing impatient. “I  _ get _ that. I do. But we're  _ all _ dealing with the exact same thing. Maybe  _ I _ don't have anyone to miss back on earth, but Pidge and Hunk do. You don't see either of  _ them _ almost getting us all killed. Lance is just being an ass about it, as usual.”

As soon as he'd said it, Keith dropped his eyes, knowing Shiro’s would be on him in a second. Keith knew as well as Shiro did that both Hunk and Pidge had put the rest of them in danger before - and he'd done  _ his _ fair share, as well. It was hard to keep emotions out of the mix when they were always running high, but he couldn't understand why Lance wouldn't even let himself be  _ comforted.  _

“He's hurting,” Shiro said, still resonating calmness. “When we hurt, we tend to forget about others for a little while. It can be hard to see past what's wounding us, right that moment. Lance knows you guys are hurting too, and he cares. He just wants someone to care about him, too.”

“I  _ do!” _ Keith said quickly, sucking in a sharp breath after, a little embarrassed. “He… Lance  _ knows _ I care about him. Doesn't he?”

Shiro tilted his head to one side, offering another soft smile. “Now might be a good time to remind him.”

Keith screwed his face to one side, thinking. “How, though? I'm not good at talking about that kind of thing, but I feel like if I did, he wouldn't  _ listen _ right now.”

_ “Show _ him.” Shiro replied. “Be the person that  _ shows _ him that his pain matters to someone. It'll make it easier for him to deal with. Don't dismiss it or trivialize it, or bring up someone else's suffering right now, because that’ll just make him feel more isolated. Trust me. Just give him a moment to let it out, and he’ll come back around. You’ll  _ both _ feel better afterward.”

With that, Shiro reached out to squeeze Keith’s arm, a wordless reassurance. Looking back at him, silent for a long moment, Keith finally nodded. 

“I hope so.”

\--

Prying Lance’s door open half an hour later, Keith poked his head in. When Lance only raised an eyebrow back at him, he let the door open fully, propping himself against one side of its frame as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I'm going to the training deck for a bit. Come with me.” Lance looked back him sourly. He looked like he'd been crying. 

“No.”

“It’ll help.” Keith argued, steeled by the way Lance looked, brown skin mottled pink beneath his eyes. “C’mon.”

“What would help is if you'd just leave me the fuck alone for a few _ticks,_ and stop bopping into my room and telling me what to do, how about that?” Lance snatched a pillow from his bed, tossing it haphazardly in Keith’s direction. It fell harmlessly at his feet. Keith rubbed at his temples, leaning harder against the frame of the door. 

“Look, I know what I'm talking about, but if we get down there and it doesn't make you feel any better, you're welcome to suit up and kick my ass all over the sparring room. How's that?”

At that, Lance gave him the tiniest hint of a smile. “Oh I'm gonna hold you to that.”

Keith sighed. “Fine. Come on.”

\--

When they reached the training deck, Keith led Lance to an open room with nothing more than a black bag sitting in the middle of the floor. He walked straight toward it, bent to rifle through it, all while Lance watched over his shoulder impatiently. When Keith didn't move fast enough to suit him, he wandered off, eyeing the room in an attempt to remember exactly which one it was that they were in. 

His thoughts were interrupted when something hit him in the shoulder. Turning on his heel, he caught the projection headpiece that tumbled into his hands by sheer luck. He looked back at Keith, wide-eyed and incredulous. 

“Dude what the hell was  _ that?”  _ Keith offered no apology. He simply mimed sliding the headpiece into place. 

“Put it on.”

“What about you?” Lance demanded. “You gonna wear one of these stupid things too? And how is this even supposed to  _ do _ anything for us, if the others aren't here?”

“Lance, please just shut your mouth and put the headpiece on.” Keith moved back to his knees to retrieve the rest of his bag’s contents, and Lance glowered after him. Against his better judgement, he did as he was told, and slipped the headpiece down onto his head, feeling it power on, once in place.

“Alright,  _ now _ what?”

Keith waved behind him as he dug through his bag. “Sit down.”

“Sit -  _ seriously? _ Keith, what's this got to do with anything?”

Standing with an almost audible snap, Keith looked back at him with hard eyes, but he wasn't angry. Only insistent. “Lance. Trust me.” His voice was softer than it should have been, and it caught Lance off guard. His twisted his mouth hard to one side, glad that no one else was there to see Keith getting the better of him. 

He groaned, acquiescing, melting into a lump of crossed legs on the floor.

“Alright, sitting down. Now clear my mind, or whatever - right?”

“No.” Keith said, raising a hand, and Lance could see a blanket draped over his arm. “Fill it up. Think about what's bothering you. Think about home.” Keith shook the blanket out with a flourish, then moved to drape it across Lance’s lap and shoulders. “Show me.”

Lance stared back at him for a few seconds, mouth hanging open. Keith waited. He was braced for whatever retort Lance might have for him, for giving up a glimpse of his sentimental side. But Lance only nodded, letting his eyes flutter closed as the images in his mind began to flicker in front of him. 

At first there were only flashes, broken bits of thought interrupted by static as he struggled to remember details, and he battled a frown at the notion of forgetting beloved faces and cherished places. There was obvious sadness running through everything as his mind swirled; the edges of every image he managed to conjure were blurry and dark. But then Keith sat beside him, a hand gently placed on his back, and the pictures in his mind became sharper, stayed longer. 

He smiled. 

It didn't take long for him to crack an eye open, to check and see if Keith was watching his memories play out. When he saw that he was, smiling at them along with him, Lance couldn't resist narrating. 

“That's my uncle, Charles. He's mom's brother. Dad always calls him Carlos.”

He dragged his finger across the small screen that the device provided him with, his imagination strong enough to will it into something like a tablet. Gesturing at each flash of memory with excitement, he fondly described everything in front of him - everything he could show Keith. 

“And that's his little shaved ice stand, down on the boardwalk. They're everywhere back home, but his is the best. I'll…” Lance paused, reaching up to wipe at his eyes, these tears decidedly happier ones than before. “I'll have to take you there, sometime.”

Keith nodded. “I'd like that.”

“Hey, Keith?” Lance’s voice was quiet and small, so he turned to be certain that Keith could hear him. “Thanks. And I'm sorry for bein’ such an ass, earlier. You didn't have to… I know you've got stuff you miss too, and - well, I’ll try to help you deal with that, too.” Lance reached an arm out, silently asking Keith to join him beneath the blanket. 

“You don't owe me anything, Lance.” Keith shook his head, moving closer. “Besides - this helps more than you know, for me, too. Now-” he propped his chin on Lance’s shoulder, peering over with a satisfied smile - “Show me more.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Find me on [twitter](twitter.com/_quartetship_)!  
> Find me on [tumblr](quartetship.tumblr.com)!


End file.
